


Leave Me Sweet

by Emoryems



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 00:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emoryems/pseuds/Emoryems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has his own spin-the-bottle moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Me Sweet

Despite the horrid beginning to Rachel’s party, once the hard liquor came into the picture things quickly became the chaotic norm for New Directions.  Kurt doesn’t know if he should be horrified or excited to see what will happen. 

 

There is no way that Kurt is going to be consuming anything that might affect his perception or his inhibitions tonight; he does not need to add embarrassing drinking stories to his repertoire. Well. He doesn’t need more than the one, which is bad enough.  He can only imagine the utter humiliation of having Blaine see him do something stupid.  So, no, he’s not drinking. 

 

Sobriety is certainly becoming an interesting place, though, and Kurt almost wishes he could spend more time with the McKinley crew if only to hold each and every one of their actions this night against them.  He could only imagine the power this would afford him in the halls of his old school. 

 

“Kurt!” yells Mercedes. “You need to come and try this.” She’s holding a red plastic cup in her hand and staring at the liquid within in awe. 

 

“It’s amazing,” says Tina, who is pouring a large portion of a mickey into a cup and filling the rest with 7 Up. “It’s Butterscotch Schnapps and 7 Up.”

 

Mercedes walks over to where he is standing and hands him a cup, smiling at him with happiness. “It tastes like Skittles.”

 

Looking into the cup dubiously and with one eyebrow raised, Kurt sends his friend a smile back and says, “Thanks.”  He wastes no time in discarding the cup on the counter where two others sit – it seems that Mercedes can’t remember that he isn’t drinking this time, and she is constantly bringing him new concoctions to try.  Kurt’s protested and explained so many times tonight that he’s given up. 

 

As Mercedes wanders back to where Tina is, Kurt smiles, enjoying spending time with all of his friends from New Directions.  The loose atmosphere afforded by the breaking down of inhibitions only amplifies this, and Kurt is happy to have the chance to see this, to see all of these people that he cares about so open.  The alcohol is showing him some aspects of some people’s character that he never would have expected.

 

Even Blaine seems to have shaken off the dapper air that he gains when in Dalton, and has started to let go and have a good time.

 

 

Now Kurt usually wouldn’t begrudge a friend, especially not Blaine, some fun.  It was something that the boy obviously needed; ever since the Valentine’s Day debacle Blaine has been quieter, less assured.  So Kurt definitely doesn’t want to be messing up any kind of good thing his friend can be involved in.  Even if it includes all of the members of New Directions, who are their competition and his friends, and enough alcohol to fill a bathtub.

 

But as Kurt watches Blaine dance wildly to music, grope (completely unintentionally in some cases) many a person, and generally be a complete goof, he can’t help but wonder what kind of trouble he could get into.  The other boy doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

 

It’s about an hour in when Rachel Berry calls them all to sit in an oblong formation for a game of drunken spin the bottle, and ends up tonguing his crush in his face. And well.  He’s not really feeling the friendship there. 

 

Kurt isn’t going out of his head with wild jealously, though.  He knows what this is, and he understands that when drinking even the best people aren’t going to maintain absolute decorum. 

 

If he had some kind of delusion along those lines he wouldn’t have vague memories of wide Bambi eyes and some rather interesting shoes that he wouldn’t ever recommend to anyone over the age of ten. He also wouldn’t gag at even a hint of Chablis.

 

So Kurt isn’t irrationally upset at this turn of events.  He actually manages to kind of smile and laugh through his yell of, “Okay! I think we’ve seen enough of that!” His hands are clapping wildly and he thinks that maybe his eyes, not to mention his brain, will never recover from the up-close and personal meeting of Blaine and Rachel’s lips. 

 

But he’s not running to sob his eyes out, or ripping Rachel from the lips that he desperately wishes were kissing his instead right now. 

 

When the two in front of him break apart and Rachel has spun the bottle and landed on a slowly wavering Puck, Kurt straightens his spine and watches the others as they play.

 

Rachel slinks – well… attempts to slink – across the floor to where Puck is, pulling the mohawked boy into a slightly deeper than necessary kiss.  Kurt can’t decide if she is just a promiscuous drunk, or if she’s still trying to make Finn jealous.  With the lack of hesitation on her part, however, Kurt thinks that it just might not be the latter.  After all, last time she kissed Puck she set herself up for the actual breakup with Finn. 

 

When Puck spins the bottle and lands on Artie he barely blinks an eye before he walks over to the other boy, leans down with minimal wavering, and pecks him on the lips. 

 

“Woah! Hold up,” announces Tina, who is leaning into Mike on one side and trying not to get distracted by a giggling Mercedes on the other. “Seven seconds.  We agreed on seven seconds.” 

 

“Yeah Puckerman, no getting out of this,” Santana says, and Kurt is surprised that she managed to get something out that wasn’t accompanied with crying.  He definitely had not seen her as the soppy kind of drunk, but there it was. 

 

Puck looks over with a brow raised and a look on his face that is an exaggeration of his normal badass bitch face. “Fine,” he says, and leans into Artie for an extended press of lips.

 

Kurt’s eyebrows must be competing with his hairline for height at this point, because he can’t really believe he just saw that.  Puck, the boy who is obviously maturing past crude remarks and dumpster tosses, but who spends far too much effort on gay jokes to be nonchalant about it, just kissed another guy and didn’t even wince. 

 

Maybe he’s been transported into an alternate dimension where high school, oh who’s he kidding, _every_ guy, is okay with kissing other guys.  That’s got to be it.  Because he can’t imagine a single one of the guys, except maybe Blaine, who would have just laid one on him for a game. 

 

But maybe that’s the problem, though.  Kurt has thought about it before, and as much as he would like to consider some science fiction answer to solve life’s inconsistencies, he thinks that maybe the issue is actually simpler.  Maybe he’s the problem.

 

As he watches the bottle pair Artie and Tina for what must be an awkward kiss simply because of their old relationship, he contemplates his not-quite-new revelation.

 

There is a reason Coach Sylvester used to call him “Lady Face”, and it has a lot to do with the simple fact that while Kurt knows he is most definitely male, he exudes several traits that are distinctly feminine.  Some of these, such as his gracile features, are things that come naturally to him, and others, such as his killer sense of fashion and music, are things that he puts out there. He can see how these might cause confusion in heteronormative minds. 

 

Kurt hasn’t had the luxury of being physically affectionate beyond some rather emotionally charged hugs with his father, and some friendly hand-holding with Blaine and the girls of New Directions.  He doesn’t really count the occasional high-five from some of the guys at Dalton. 

 

Most of the physical attention that Kurt’s had over the years, especially since his mother died, has been of a negative sort.  There have been literally hundreds of locker slams and dumpster tosses, a fist more than he cares to remember, pee balloons, legs that have tripped him, so many slushy facials that he doesn’t even know where to start.  So it hasn’t been nice, and it most definitely has not been easy.

 

He knows that almost all of the bad is because of how he acts, how he dresses.  Who he is.

 

If he has more of a tendency to flinch away from contact than to melt into it, then he pretty much already knows where that comes from.

 

He thinks that maybe the loneliness is even worse.

 

Watching Santana send a saucy wink at Brittany, who has just spun her, and crook a finger at the other girl to come closer, Kurt feels a pang in his chest.  They are so comfortable with each other, and even if they aren’t together traditionally as a couple, they are obviously close. 

 

The kiss the two girls share is short and sweet and completely the opposite of what Kurt figured he’d ever see them share.  But there it is, and not a single person in the room is jeering rudely.  Except Puck and Artie, who look like they would like to join in.  Lauren, though, she looks like she might want to rip Puck’s balls off for his blatant leer.  But that has nothing to do with two girls kissing.

 

Kurt craves what he can see the others sharing; that intimacy, that tenderness.  Even the people who aren’t together, who will never be together, they look so at ease doing this. 

 

Kurt can’t help but think that there must be something wrong with him.  He’s lonely and he wants to share kisses with someone he likes, wants to hold hands and smile secretly, sweetly, at someone.  He wants to be able to touch someone without them flinching away in disgust.

 

It’s because of all of this that Kurt is dreading when the bottle will land on him.  He doesn’t want to have to watch as one of his friends tries to disguise (or not) a look of unpleasantness. Tries to go through with kissing him as quickly as possible. 

 

He certainly doesn’t want to see how Blaine would react if he were the one to have to kiss him. 

 

After the talk in the coffee shop, the one where Kurt bared his heart for Blaine, they haven’t really talked about it.  He doesn’t know if Blaine just never considered him an option, or if Blaine wasn’t attracted to him physically or in general.  He doesn’t know, and right now, he doesn’t really want to find out.  Especially not when Blaine was obviously not in the right mind.

 

Kurt is brought out of his inner musings to the sight of Santana taking Mike by the collar and pulling him in for what she must have learned from watching porno, complete with unrealistic and vulgar moans.  The others are laughing in delight and even Tina looks intrigued by the show.

 

Kurt looks to his right, trying to get a hold on how Blaine is taking everything, and is met with a face that could only be classified as fascinated. Blaine is staring at the couple like they are the most interesting things imaginable, his head tilted to the left and eyes wide.  Kurt wants to reach out and run his hand through the loosening curls breaching the top of Blaine’s ear.

 

Turning back to the middle of the circle to see who Mike would spin when he actually hears the audible smack of Santana breaking off, Kurt tries not to feel dread in the pit of his stomach.

 

He knows that it’s likely that he’ll be on the other end of that bottle soon, and he can’t believe his luck so far, but he really doesn’t want to do this.  If it’s one of the girls it won’t be too bad; he can deal with that.  That’s some friends playing a game of spin the bottle.  The guys, however, have been known to question whether him being gay automatically means he is attracted to every other boy in the vicinity.  Like he is some predator who wants to molest and convert them.

 

And that turn of phrase was the exact wrong thing to use. He really doesn’t need to think about that experience ever again, especially now.

 

Mike grabs the bottle and whirls it, causing it to go fast enough that for a moment it blurs.  As it slows, passing Artie, Santana, Sam, Lauren, Puck, everyone more than a few times, Kurt can almost feel his heart beating out of his chest. 

 

When it just barely creeps past Rachel to point directly at him, Kurt tenses and a sick feeling settles deep within his stomach. 

 

Freezing in place and struggling to maintain a neutral face, Kurt looks toward where Mike is sitting, now standing, and prepares himself for whatever might come.  He even considers protesting, giving the other boy an out. 

 

Before he can even formulate a plan of action, Mike has kneeled down in front of him and is leaning in.  Kurt almost flinches back, but he manages to keep still as lips cover his gently.  Staring at Mike’s closed eyes and his relaxed features, Kurt feels emotion rise in his throat.

 

He can only concentrate on the softness of Mikes lips as he moves them slowly and without any hesitation against his in an almost, but not quite, chaste manner.  Mike has brought up one hand to balance on his shoulder, and Kurt can only gasp from the easy way he does it.  The hand on him isn’t clenching in tension, it isn’t pushing him away.  It’s simply there with no sign of awkwardness at all. 

 

Kurt honestly cannot stop his reaction, and as his lips start to tremble and tears build in his eyes, he clenches his eyes tightly closed.  The press of his lids together forces a tear out, and it trails its way down his cheek to splash over where Kurt and Mike’s lips are pressed together.

 

Mike pulls away sharply and his face is one of concern and worry.  “Kurt? Did I – did I hurt you?”

 

Kurt shakes his head as he feels even more tears creep from his eyes, and lets out a quiet sob as the hand on his shoulder squeezes gently.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mike implores, bringing up his other hand to tenderly hold Kurt’s other shoulder.

 

Licking his lips, tasting the tears there, Kurt swallows hard and tries to rein everything in.  Everyone is staring at him in various levels of concern and confusion, and the soft hold on his shoulders, the almost tangible worry radiating from Mike, is too much. 

 

Shifting slightly, Kurt manages to get his feet under him, which nearly forces Mike to back away to give him room.  As the hands drop from his shoulders, he sends a tight-lipped smile at the other boy, saying, “It’s okay – it’s nothing you did, Mike.” At the slight disbelief that flares across the dark-haired boy’s face, Kurt puts on a more authentic smile through his tears.  “I’m fine.  Don’t worry about it.” 

 

Standing fully, Kurt makes his way out of the circle of his friends and toward where the bathroom is, muttering a quick “excuse me” as he goes. 

 

As he shuts the door behind him and stares into the mirror, he traces a finger down his cheek and under an eye.  He then lets out one last sob as he spins around, away from his reflection, and wraps his arms around his middle, fingers tracing the black belt there.

 

He knows that any moment now either Blaine or Mercedes will knock on the door and demand to be let in.  They will fuss and maybe even hug him tight.  They will ask what is wrong, demand to know why he’s upset. 

 

And he knows that he can’t tell them that he just experienced one of the most genuine and tender acts in his life.  An act that had more kindness held within than anything he’s experienced in so very long.

 

He certainly won’t tell them how he can hardly imagine feeling anything like that again.

 

 


End file.
